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The Whore and the Captain: Part 1
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-- ROME A.D. 2370 --
"Over here, Jean-Luc, I have found an sign."
Professor Vicelius was a distinguished elderly gentleman who wore
one of those big-brim hats that archaeologists love. He handed
over a broken piece of inscribed stone to Picard, who cleaned off
the dirt with a small brush.
"Yes," Picard said, examining the marble, "it does appear to be a
marker of some kind. You are the Latin expert, Professor, can you
translate the inscription?"
The Professor examined the piece closely, "It says Domus
Matrillae, The House of Matrilla. Interesting..."
The enterprise was in orbit around earth while several senior
officers attended training sessions run by Starfleet's Recreation
Department. Picard, very in character, chose an archaeology
seminar held in Rome. It was amazing to him that, after hundreds
of years of excavations in this eternal city, there were still
artifacts to be found. Professor Vicelius was an friend as
well as an eminent classical archaeologist. Picard had found this
trip to be thoroughly relaxing and educational, so far.
"Follow me," Professor Vicelius beckoned, "I want to
show you something really unique. We are on the cutting edge of
archaeological technology."
Picard and Dr. Vicelius walked over the far side of the dig.
Two graduate students were operating a machine that resembled
a large phaser canon. Around the periphery of the area mechanical
hooks were moving in and out of the generated beam. It
appeared that objects were being pulled from nowhere.
"This instrument, Jean-Luc, is the first wormhole generator to be
used specifically for retrieving archaeological artifacts. We
actually pull objects out of space-time. Of course, this is still
experimental, but it is an wonderful feeling to hold an actual pot
instead of a potsherd."
Picard was both impressed and confused. "Doctor, how can you just
reach in and take things out of time? What if you grab hold of
something that shouldn’t be displaced?"
Dr. Vicelius shook his head, "Don't worry. We're not changing
space-time. We have a method of looking before we leap. See
those goggles? Go take a peek, you'll be astounded."
Picard walked over to a viewscope being used by a student. The
young reluctantly gave up his position to the Captain, who
after a few seconds exclaimed, "Incredible, I wonder..."
He never finished his sentence. A huge flash occurred by
the wormhole generator. The smoke cleared quickly, but Picard had
disappeared.
-- ROME A.D. 31 --
"Quis est, Matrilla?"
<Who is it, Matrilla?>
"Nescio, Miryam. Est vir calvus, inustitate vestitus."
<I don’t know, Miryam. He’s a bald in
strange clothes.>
"Estne mortuus?"
<Is he dead?>
"Non credo."
<I don't think so.>
Matrilla and Miryam both poked at Picard with their fingers trying
to get a reaction. Matrilla was the of the two; a corpulent
matron with a belly so pendulous that her dirty blue stola was
"decincta" <unbelted> as if she were pregnant. Miryam, in sharp
contrast, was a lovely woman with dark Mediterranean
coloring. Her brown eyes gleamed with fire and a wisdom far
beyond her years. She also was the most popular whore in
Matrilla’s brothel.
Miryam bent close to Picard and shook his head, hoping to wake
him. She was successful. Picard started coughing and moaning,
and his eyes fluttered. Matrilla was relieved that she would not
have to explain a strange dead to the authorities. Any
suspicious activity might cause her brothel license to be revoked.
She called in one of the eunuchs to help move Picard to a couch.
Picard had regained some consciousness. His vision was blurry and
he was extremely weak, but he was aware of being carried from the
floor to some kind of bed or couch. He only vaguely remembered
where he had been before everything went blank. Faint voices were
speaking a language that was unintelligible to him, yet somehow
familiar. As more of his vision came back, he saw he was in a
small room with several pieces of exotic furniture and walls
painted with large friezes. He recognized it as Roman and
wondered if this was an archaeologist’s dream, or more likely,
nightmare.
A lovely woman bent over him. She looked Middle-Eastern
but was speaking a language that he finally recognized to be
Latin.
"Tibine est nomen? tuum nomen?" <What is your name?>
His first instinct was to reach for the tricorder but he stopped
himself. A special version of the universal translator that
contained all known earth languages, past and present, had been
downloaded into it. This was often used by archaeologists during
excavations. He was reluctant to activate it while this woman was
present but the question being asked was clear, especially to a
native speaker of a romance language. Given the situation,
"Picard" seemed a quite adequate response.
"Peeecaaaduh," the woman repeated, imitating what to her was
a very odd sounding name.
Picard passed out again and the two women decided it would be best
to remove his unusual clothing. He was also carrying some unique
objects that they could not identify. Since they were professional
prostitutes, not thieves, they gently undressed him and placed his
belongings on another couch.
Matrilla gestured to Miryam that they should quietly leave the
room. The needed to recover in peace.
Outside the room Matrilla instructed Miryam,
"Until I decide what to do with this stranger, Miryam, I am making
it your job to take good care of him. And don’t annoy him with
questions. He is obviously someone of wealth and nobility. Did
you notice his hands, his skin, his teeth..."
"His big cock," Miryam interjected, grinning mischievously and
holding up two hands to mark the length.
"Miryam, you really are a wanton she-wolf."
"Of course, Matrilla," Miryam answered back saucily, "why else
would I be here in this she-wolf den? But I love my work, and it
will be my pleasure to take care of Picard. hahahahaha." Miryam
laughed even louder at the woman’s feigned outrage.
Matrilla sometimes thought that Miryam enjoyed her work too much.
If she didn't know that Miryam was a former Judean slave, Matrilla
would have suspected her of being one of those rich Patrician
women who worked the brothels in disguise to make up for a
impotent husband. She wondered how a pretty woman like
Miryam could get such tremendous pleasure from fucking strange
men. "But," she thought to herself, "it keeps the clientele
coming back."
************
Picard woke up with an agonizing headache and feeling of nausea.
He slowly recalled what had happened, but hoped it would turn out
to be a huge holodeck joke that some member of his crew had
orchestrated.
"Computer, end program."
Nothing happened. Picard wondered if they had rigged the computer
not to respond to his voice. He was not appreciating the joke.
"Computer, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard. End holodeck program
immediately."
Still nothing changed. Picard tried to stand up but waves of
dizziness caused him to sit down again. The realization was
settling in that the holodeck was not responsible for his
predicament.
As he slowly regained his stability, he noticed that he was
completely naked. This panicked him, not so much from modesty,
but because his comm badge and tricorder were now gone along with
his pants and shirt. He tried to calm down, reasoning with
himself that the clothes were probably somewhere within the
chamber. He turned and saw his clothes and equipment neatly
placed on another couch in the corner of the room. As he walked
over to retrieve them he heard a voice from behind him.
"Picard, valesne maius?" <are you feeling better?>
He turned and saw the same woman that had leaned over him
when he first woke up. She was standing in the doorway staring at
him and babbling away in Latin. He grabbed the comm badge with
his left hand and initialized the translator, leaving the
tricorder on the couch since he had no pockets or belt.
"Picard, didn't you hear me? Are you feeling better?"
She spoke to this naked with a casualness that only a whore
could have. Naked were an everyday occurrence for Miryam,
although this one was much better looking than most she had seen.
She hoped he would not make her wait long; she was already wet and
throbbing for him.
"Yes, thank you, I am much improved," he said in a voice that
betrayed his discomfort. He was awkwardly trying to get dressed
as fast as possible, a task made more difficult by the need to
keep hold of his comm badge.
Miryam walked over and interrupted his dressing, grabbing his
shirt out of his hands in a very matter-of-fact way.
"The britches and undergarments are all right. They only make you
look like a foreigner. But this small tunic will have to be
replaced. It is too unusual. You will draw unnecessary attention
to yourself. I have brought you something more suitable."
She threw his in the corner and replaced it with a white
tunic and sash. Without being asked, she helped him slip it on,
letting her hands fondle and caress him in the process. Picard
saw the wisdom in this maneuver and made no attempt to argue with
her. He was a little surprised at the way she touched him, but
she had given him good advice and he attributed her actions to
cultural differences. He still did not know where he was or who
this woman was, but he decided to be cautious and wait a bit
before interrogating anyone.
"Thank you. I concur completely with your observations. I insist,
though, on wearing this pin and carrying this instrument."
She nodded approval without questioning and he placed the comm
badge on the tunic and the tricorder in the belt. Picard took a
deep breath and tried to relax.
"And by the way," he said, "you have the advantage. You know my
name; I don’t know yours."
She smiled warmly at him, "They call me Miryam."
**********
Miryam arranged for a discreet male slave to attend to the
stranger's personal needs and help him clean up. Later Otho,
Picard's new 'valet', led him into a kitchen area where Miryam was
waiting with some food. As he and Miryam sat together eating
bread and fruit, Picard saw this as an opportunity to get some
answers. He could guess where he was, but had no clue WHEN he
was. He considered for a moment how best to construct his
question so as not to alarm Miryam or give her too much
information. Disturbances in time were serious; he had to be
careful not to reveal anything concerning future events.
It seemed best to feign partial amnesia resulting from a pretended
head wound; that way he could avoid answering questions. Not that
anyone was asking.
"Miryam, a blow to my head has made me forget some things. Can
you tell me where I am? How did I get here?"
"We found you unconscious in that other room. I don't know how you
got there. I was hoping you would tell me."
"You say 'WE'? Who else knows about me?"
"Well, WE all know about you now," she said as she gave him an
affectionate pat on the knee, "but it was Matrilla and I who found
you. Matrilla is the woman who runs this brothel and watches
over the here."
Picard couldn’t resist letting a small grin slip out. A brothel
explained the many strange things about this place. Actually, he
thought he was very lucky to have been found unconscious in a
brothel, rather than inside a prison or the middle of a market-
place. At least he would be fairly unnoticed here.
"I am assuming that this is Rome. At least that's where I was
before I fainted. Unfortunately, I don't remember exactly where I
lived or much about my life prior to the accident."
"Yes, Picard," she said shaking her head at his misfortune, "you
are still in Rome, just south of the Forum along the main road."
Picard thought for a moment how best to ask the year. This was
not going to be easy.
"Miryam, forgive this ridiculous question, but I must know -- who
is in charge of the city now?"
"Who is in charge? That is a strange question, Picard. I'm not
even sure what you mean. But if that's your way of asking who is
the Emperor, I will tell you it is still that monster Tiberius.
Thank God he has chosen to live in Capri, far away from here. You
must have hit your head very hard if you were able to forget
Tiberius!"
She reached out and stroked his leg with two fingers; it was the
act of a person offering comfort. Picard responded to the
friendship she was offering. He briefly returned her touch by
placing a hand on her shoulder, somewhat embarrassed by this
almost involuntary gesture. That brief exchange lasted only a few
seconds, interrupted by Otho bringing in some wine.
Picard had gotten the answers he needed. He also had a gut feeling
that this woman Miryam was quite intelligent and perceptive, and
he would have to be very careful. The irony of the situation was
not lost on him. As an amateur archaeologist he should be enjoying
every second of being here, but he was not thrilled about the
possibility of never getting home.
They sat silently - eating, relaxing, and observing each other.
Miryam was as perceptive as Picard had feared. She wondered if he
really expected she would not notice that his lips were speaking a
different language than her ears were hearing. She had deduced
almost immediately that the instrument on his belt, that he was so
protective of, was the cause of this strange phenomenon. Like
most intelligent people living in the Roman world, she relied less
on superstition and more on pragmatic reasoning. To her, Picard
was not a sorcerer or a god but someone who possessed an
incredible bag of tricks.
She watched him carefully as they sat without talking.
This Picard certainly was a very unusual man, but being a
prostitute in Rome had introduced her to many bizarre people and
bizarre behaviors. The Emperor Tiberius had invented such
perverted practices that the common people complained there were
no words in Latin to describe them. Miryam knew instinctively,
however, that Picard was not one of those twisted, dangerous
people that roamed the city streets. She sensed his caring and
intelligence.
While Miryam was mentally checking him over, Picard was busy
mulling over in his mind how to begin searching for a way home.
The wormhole that had transported him here was apparently no
longer in that small room and might have moved entirely out of the
building.
He knew he would have to leave Matrilla's eventually to get some
answers, and was less than comfortable about his tricorder hanging
in plain site.
Picard broke the brief silence. "I need something to wear over
this tunic that will cover my equipment. It is very valuable and
might attract thieves."
Responding to that comment, Miryam startled Picard by suddenly
jumping at him, knocking him to the floor. He was not prepared for
resistance as she straddled him and laughed in his face. It was
an affectionate maneuver, though, and Picard smiled up at her.
In the midst of her giggling she managed a few sentences.
"Picard, you are a moron! What barbarian land do you come from -
where people are such idiots? Do you think I haven’t noticed that
this object you carry speaks Latin for you!"
She grabbed the tricorder out of his belt and waved it over his
head, teasing him to get it back.
"Does it speak Hebrew also?" she asked playfully, holding the
tricorder up to her mouth.
"shalom, hashem shelee Miryam...".
She was thoroughly enjoying herself. It was not often she got to
see or do anything as intriguing as what this strange offered.
"And what are these little lights inside? And what kind of
material is the casing made of?"
Picard just stared at her in total shock.
"Don’t worry," she said pinching his cheek and returning the
tricorder to his belt, "I am not interested in your little toy.
I won’t tell anyone about it. You have nothing to fear from me."
Before he could utter a word, she bent down and kissed him
forcefully, pushing her tongue into his mouth.
His body tensed up as if in resistance; the swiftness
of her move causing him to involuntary try to push her off.
But Miryam was a professional and she had no intention of
letting him get away. As much as she enjoyed her customers,
she had rarely been as aroused as she was at that moment.
Picard was a very appealing man, and in comparison to what
Miryam was accustomed to, he was an Adonis.
Picard had no idea what to do. He was not often in the
position of being attacked by a woman. Given his
strength against hers, he could easily have flung her
across half the room, but something in him surrendered
and the battle was over. Miryam felt his body give
itself over to her and she relaxed her grip on him. She
was the victor and he was the booty. Staying on top of
him, she slowly worked her mouth down his clothed body, kissing
and caressing every inch between his lips and his swelling
penis. She wanted this first time to be for him alone; she
wanted to make him moan and scream in pleasure.
She removed the tricorder from the sash and placed
it close by so it would still function. Then, untying the belt,
she hungrily reached down his pants.
"Oh Picard, You are a among men."
She tried to get the pants off, or at least pushed all the way
down, but something about their construction baffled her.
Eventually she was able to get them down just far enough
to free up the object of her lust. His penis was only half-erect
and Miryam pushed back the foreskin that was partially covering
the tip. After all these years in Rome, she still had difficulty
facing an uncircumcised man. But circumcised or not, they all
were the same when saluting. Putting her lips over the first inch,
she pressed her tongue against the slit. In less than a minute
she had results; Picard's cock growing in length and thickness in
her mouth.
He was in a stupor; letting it all happen; wanting it to
happen. She had excited him beyond the point where he could
stop. The only sounds out of his mouth were soft moans. Miryam
let up her for a moment to gaze on what she had
accomplished. Here was a magnificent shaft on a magnificent
man. She had to fight hard to keep herself from mounting it.
While she was momentarily preoccupied Picard attempted to flip
her over and thrust himself inside, but she forced him back down,
pressing his shoulders towards the floor.
"No, this time you do nothing. Let me pleasure you."
As soon as she was sure he was going to stay still she grabbed
hold of his penis with her left hand and returned it to her
mouth. Her right hand she put back down his pants to caress his
testicles. He had never been worked on by anyone so expert,
and the arousal was too intense to last long. In just a few
minutes he was spurting hot deep into her throat.
After the last drop was released, she moved up to kiss his lips
so he could taste his own fluids on her. She had conquered him.
**********
It was late morning the next day when Otho woke his master.
Picard got dressed and then told Otho he preferred to just wander
around by himself.
He was lazily observing the various items and aspects of the house
when he was heard what sounded to him like Miryam moaning.
No one else seemed the least bit concerned, and although he knew
better, Picard peeked into the room where the noise was coming
from.
What he saw, what he really didn't want to see, was Miryam with a
customer. He was a elderly who was having a great deal of
difficulty maneuvering around her body. She was doing her best to
help him and ultimately the act was consummated. She nodded to
the man, he handed her two gold coins, and left happy. Miryam set
aside one coin for Matrilla and put one into her private
box. She turned and saw Picard.
Furious at him for watching, she ran up and slapped his face.
"Why are you on me? Didn't you ever learn manners?"
Picard knew her anger came more from humiliation than from
anything else. He was embarrassed at being caught. He was also
feeling new emotions - jealousy and disgust at what he had seen.
He wished somehow to free her from this life.
"Miryam, I'm sorry. I don't..."
She interrupted him, "What do you think I'm doing here? Do you
think this is a game? This is how I make a living. This is how I
bought my freedom. And this is how I will earn my escape. So
spare me any pity, please. I have a better plan for my life."
He was acting so dejected, she softened up and gave him an
affectionate caress. After the ridiculous wrestling match with
that last pathetic customer, she was in the mood for some good
sex.
"Come with me. Matrilla has a really nice bath. I’ll clean Gaius
the baker off me, and then I'll treat you to a soothing rub."
The bath was extremely elegant and seemed to Picard out of place
and out of character for the dwelling. There was a dressing room,
separate saunas for damp and dry heat, and warm and cold tubs.
The whole bath was heated by flues that channeled hot air through
the walls and under the floors. Matrilla had spared no expense.
Miryam saw that Otho had followed and signaled him to leave,
indicating that she would take care of his master herself. She
led Picard to the dressing room and took off his clothes.
"Leave your translator here. No one will touch it. You won't
need it anyway to understand what I'll be saying." She smiled
wickedly at him and, for the first time, he felt himself blush.
Without a bit of modesty she undressed herself as well and then
led him to the warm pool.
They were alone in the water. He began to unwind immediately,
soothed by the warmth. Miryam had a sponge which she used first on
herself to remove all traces of her last customer. She then began
to wash Picard. She cleaned every inch of him with the sponge and
then put it aside. He was so relaxed he was almost asleep.
Miryam turned her attention back to his body which she began to
massage with her hands, gently unkinking his neck and shoulders
and rubbing his arms and chest with enough pressure to get his
attention. Picard was waking up, noticing the heat not only from
the water, but from Miryam's own body. She had moved her rubbing
down to his penis and testicles while she wrapped one arm and one
leg around him. The water gave a certain buoyancy to their bodies
so she was able to easily press hard against him. She was very
aroused and was working on getting him to respond to her needs.
No words were exchanged between them as she leaned forward to kiss
him hard, still holding fast to his organs. The combination of
her ardor and her manipulation caused Picard's erection to swell
fully.
Still buoyed up by the water, she pressed up against his
hard penis, forcing it inside her.
"Oh yes," she thought, "this is what I have been waiting for
since the moment I first saw you. This is what I hungered
for. Fuck me, Picard. Fuck me hard."
The words were unspoken but the meaning was clear. He
floated her around so her back was against the side of the
pool and he began thrusting. The moans and cries of
pleasure from them both required no translation. He knew
what she wanted; he pushed in and out hard, continually,
without stopping, until she came convulsively. When he knew
she was finished it took only one more ejaculatory thrust
for him to join her.
**********
Later that afternoon Picard saw Miryam putting on a cape, as if
about to leave. He walked over to where she stood, hoping for an
invitation but not wanting to ask. He was about to go nuts from
being cooped up in that house.
She saw straight into his soul from the expression on his face.
“Maybe I should bring you with me today. You can’t stay locked in
Matrilla's house forever." She let out a little giggle, "and I
think Otho is getting sick of your face."
He smiled back at her, "You’re right. I do need to get out - to
walk around and try to remember." And to find the wormhole, he
reminded himself.
She gave him a cloak to cover the comm badge and the tricorder
and took him by the hand out through a side door. Picard was
instantly astounded. Besides the fact that he had not been in
actual daylight for so long, the sight of Rome was captivating.
As they walked along the narrow streets, he remarked to himself
how much it resembled pictures he had seen of the cities of
Sicily and Naples. Picard forgot entirely about searching for
the wormhole and became engrossed in merely looking around,
marveling at everything. He listened to the strange sounds of
an ancient city, saw people in ancient attire, speaking the
many languages of a cosmopolitan area. They walked for quite
some distance - through narrow alleys lined with two and three
story buildings - to large open courtyards and markets. He was
transfixed.
At one point, Miryam nudged him with her elbow.
"Picard. You are staring like a stupid tourist. Is all of this
so unfamiliar to you?"
"Well, yes, actually I don’t remember anything of this part of
the city. Am I that conspicuous," he asked.
"You look like an imbecile," she replied, imitating his
expression, "If you’re not careful, your eyes will stay
permanently bugged out and your neck will crack."
At that moment an unkempt stumbled out of a local shop and
noticed the couple. He was quite drunk and walked towards them
muttering to himself. Miryam was suddenly nervous, almost
ashamed; Picard guessed this was one of her customers, but
wasn’t sure what he should do.
"Hey, Miryam, how about a free one?" the shouted. He
lifted his short toga and flapped his penis at her.
Miryam shouted back at him, "go home Septimus, you’ve had too
much wine!" She turned away red-faced. Because of her new
feelings for Picard, she found it difficult to have him see
this ugly part of her life.
"Come on Miryam, let me have a quickie."
The walked closer, still holding his ugly shriveled cock.
Miryam sought refuge behind Picard. Ordinarily when things
like this happened, she would just run.
Septimus made the mistake of taking one step too close. Picard
grabbed him by the toga and threw him to the ground. The
wretch was in no condition to fight back and lay there staring
up at his attacker.
"If you ever speak that way to this lady again," Picard said to
him menacingly, "I will personally slit your filthy throat."
He put his arm around Miryam and walked her quickly away.
She was impressed and grateful. Chivalry was not a common
practice in Rome that year. She stopped their walk long enough
for a hug, a quick "thank you," and the promise of a longer
thank-you later.
***********
After traveling a little further they arrived in front of a
small villa in a quiet, more secluded part of the city.
"Here we are," she said with obvious pride, "this is my house."
Picard had not expected this. "You have a house? I mean, it’s
lovely, but I thought you lived at Matrilla's house."
"Oh Jupiter, No!" she said emphatically. "I could never live in
that slimepit. I need a safe haven for myself. have been
generous to me and this is my reward. Come inside."
Her house was bright and cheery. The floor was decorated with
tile mosaics and the walls were colorfully painted. She
brought him to the center court and spread out a rug next to
the rain pool, placing out some napkins and cups.
"Sit here and relax," she said, "I'll be your harem and
bring some food. Let's see how you look as a desert chief." She
tried to wrap one of the napkins around his head like a turban
but gave up when he kept teasing her, reaching behind for her
buttocks.
"Forget it, your head looks better uncovered. I'll be right
back."
While she was gone, Picard thought about his situation. He had
been so distracted by Miryam that he had done nothing about
investigating a way back to his own time. He wondered if,
perhaps, he was avoiding getting back too quickly. Anyway, he
reasoned, the Enterprise crew was certainly hard at work trying
to find him with every bit of modern technology at their
disposal - maybe he should just do what Miryam suggested -
relax.
He had not behaved like this in a long time; not since he was a
young cadet at Starfleet Academy. He felt licentious and
driven by sex. It was wonderful. And the beauty of the
situation was that there was no Starfleet, no Enterprise, no
one to watch over his shoulder as he allowed himself to give in
to his most profligate desires. And right now what he desired
most was Miryam.
Miryam returned about a half hour later, balancing a large
round platter in one hand and a smaller plate in the other.
She placed the dishes down in front of him and joined him on
the rug.
"Sorry that took so long. Did you miss me?" Before he could
answer she gave him a hard kiss and squeezed his genitals, but
quickly released him.
Picard stared at the dishes and laughed. The large plate
contained a round flatbread with toppings, but the smaller one
held a cake in the shape of a cock and balls.
"Miryam, this is a interesting course selection. Where did the
cake come from?"
"Gaius the baker, my favorite customer, she said twisting up
her lips in a expression of disgust. "I've been helping him out
with his sexual problems and I suppose he thought I would enjoy
this little gift. Next time he shows up at Matrilla's I'm
going to send Otho in my place." She giggled and waved the
cake in front of Picard's face. "Want a bite?"
"I'll pass. What's on the large plate? That seems more
appetizing."
"Ah," she said enthusiastically, "this is a special treat from
Judea that has become popular in Rome. The matzo is a large
round unleavened bread. We spread olive oil on it and then
bake it with cheese and spices. It is delicious."
Picard, teasing her, said, "add a little sausage and you would
have a really nice pizza."
Not knowing what a pizza was (it didn't translate), she
grimaced at him with mock disdain, "Sausage over the cheese?
maybe in Rome, but never in Judea. Besides we don't eat pork.
Don't you know that the Romans call my country The Land Where
Pigs Grow Old? But such a suggestion is what I would expect
from an uncircumcised mound of stinking camel shit like you."
Picard was laughing so hard he almost choked. Miryam, still
toying with him, stood up and folded her hands in pretend
indignation. Picard tugged on the bottom of her dress, trying
to get her back. He wasn't interested anymore in pizza or
sausage; he wanted to make love to her. Grabbing her by the
waist, he pulled her to him on the floor and put his hand up
under her garment. She playfully pushed him away but he was
insistent, Besides he knew Miryam was not seriously trying to
avoid sex because her juices were already flowing. He intended
to take her right there on the carpet.
Managing to get her down on the rug, he got on top of her,
pressing his aching, rock-hard penis between her legs and
kissing her forcefully. Miryam was beside herself with lust
and spread her legs open for him. Her urgency was powerful and
she moaned loudly as he entered her, "Yes, yes, oh, Picard,
yes, please..."
But he was overwhelmed by his own passion and came almost as
soon as he thrust in.
Realizing what had happened but too excited to just stop,
Miryam put her hands on his head and pushed him down to her
throbbing clitoris, praying he would know what to do. He did
not disappoint her. Working his tongue furiously, he in
her juices mixed with his own semen. It took only a few
minutes for her to have an explosive orgasm. Picard embraced
her tightly and they stayed quietly together as he eventually
fell into a light sleep.
******
In his dream Picard was back on the Enterprise bridge, sitting
in his chair naked with a raging hard-on. Dr. Crusher was
sitting next to him wearing nothing but her blue lab coat. The
crew moved through their duties in surrealistic slow-motion.
"Beverly, I want to fuck you."
"Oh god, Jean-Luc, what took you so long. Let me suck on you."
The dream doctor knelt in front of the dream Captain and moved
her mouth over his penis until he ejaculated.
The orgasm woke Picard up. It was not Beverly Crusher but
Miryam on him as he slept. After draining him
completely she curled her body back around his, saying nothing.
It had been an interlude of mindless passion, precipitated by
nothing. Picard caressed Miryam but he was disturbed by the
meaning of his dream. Why had he never fucked Beverly. Not
that he hadn't wanted to, or that she was reluctant. They had
feelings for each other. What was he waiting for? If he ever
got back to the Enterprise, some things would be very
different. He stayed awake for a long time while Miryam rested
again in his arms.
---- two days later -----
It was time to return to Matrilla's house. Miryam could not stay away
forever. Walking out the door, Picard wondered if he would ever see
this house again.
After about a half hour, they came to a main square where a large
crowd of people had gathered, many screaming, several crying. Miryam
and Picard stopped to look and saw a gallows had been set up. There
were three children waiting for execution and the public executioner
was about to kill one of them - a girl. The people watching were
shouting at the executioner. It was a horrible scene and Picard asked
Miryam to inquire of someone what was going on.
"You can see first hand the brutality of Tiberius. These are the
three children of Sejanus. Their was executed yesterday and
today they will follow him. The people are shouting a reminder to the
executioner that it is against Roman law to execute a virgin. Perhaps
he will let the go free."
As the two watched, the threw the to the ground and
mounted her, shoving a massive erection into her, ripping her open.
The was screaming. When he had finished his rape, he lifted up
the by her hair and shouted to the crowd, "She is no longer a
virgin," and quickly put her and her brothers to death, throwing the
bodies down the steps before walking away.
It was gruesome, and Picard and Miryam were both in shock at what they
had just seen. She turned to him and sobbed uncontrollable into his
chest, "I hate this city, I hate this city." He said nothing but
swore that before he left he would see to it that Miryam had the means
to get out of Rome.
*****************
When they arrived at the brothel they were immediately aware of a
great amount of chattering and activity going on. Several of the
girls were going in and out of one particular room whispering and
giggling to each other.
Matrilla walked over to Miryam, trying in vain to keep a stern face.
"It's about time you came back. Your customers have been complaining
for two days." Matrilla smirked cryptically, "And you have been
missing all the excitement."
Miryam instantly forgot all the recent troubles and waved to her
friends, Fortunata and Charyses. They skipped over to her, grabbing
her hands and pulling her towards the mysterious adventure. Picard
was relieved to see her happy again and just stood to one side,
watching.
"Miryam, you have got to see this," Fortunata said, "you won't believe
it. A strange came to the house yesterday. He is so weird!"
Miryam thought it was definitely a week for strange men. She didn't
think, however, that anyone could be stranger or nicer than her
Picard.
Charyses chimed in, "He's had an erection for six hours, Can you
believe that? Nothing we do makes any difference. We have been
having so much fun with him."
Fortunata added, "Matrilla sent a secret note to Quinta Drusilla.
She's in there now, riding him like a prize stallion."
"The Senator's wife?" Miryam said, laughing at the image of Quinta
Drusilla going at it with a strange man. "Matrilla," she shouted to
the matron, "you should bind this in shackles and send notes
to all the Senators' wives. You'll make a fortune!"
"And Miryam," Charyses said in an awed tone, "he has yellow eyes."
Picard, on hearing that remark, didn't wait for an invitation to burst
into the room.
"Data!"
Data was on a couch and Quinta Drusilla was on Data. She had her
hands on his shoulders and was wildly moving her hips up and down on
him, moaning and screaming from the pleasure. Quinta was working up
to her first good orgasm in a long time.
Data didn't notice Picard. He was intent on what was going on with
this woman. When her climax finally hit, she let out one last scream
and collapsed on top of him. It was then that Data turned his head
towards the door where he had heard someone shout his name.
"Captain," Data said loudly, jumping up. As he stood up from the
couch, Quinta Drusilla was unceremoniously detached from his still
erect penis and tumbled onto the floor, a satisfied smile fixed on her
face.
"Captain Picard, I am glad to see you are all right."
"Yes, Data, I am fine and extremely happy to see you." Picard didn't
think it was necessary to mention what had just gone on. He was sure
Data would explain eventually. "And Data, would you please get
dressed."
"Yes Captain." Data deprogrammed his erection and pulled on a long
hooded robe that had been lying on the floor, seemingly discarded in
haste.
"Data," Picard said, suppressing a grin, "where did you get that
outfit. You look like Friar Tuck!"
"Commander Riker felt it would be best to cover as much as possible.
Captain, we have discovered the location of the wormhole and will be
able to transport you back to..."
Picard cut him off with a finger on his lips. "You can tell me all
this later." He signaled with his hands and eyes to Data that it was
not appropriate to speak in front of all these people. If Data was
connected to the ship's universal translator or had one downloaded
directly into his programming, they would be able to understand
everything he was saying.
Miryam was already upset by what transpired. She sensed immediately
that the appearance of this Data meant the end of her beautiful
relationship with Picard. Close to tears, she sulked off to a corner
of the room.
Matrilla, on the other hand, was very intrigued by what she had just
heard.
"So you are CAPTAIN Picard! You are a military man. I never would
have guessed. You don't seem like the soldier type, and neither does
your comrade. What legion do you both belong to?"
"I'd rather not discuss it," Picard said curtly, brushing her aside.
He had noticed Miryam in the corner and knew she was distressed.
There was no time for small talk with this nosy matron. He left Data
and the rest of the crowd to fend for themselves as he took Miryam by
the hand to an empty room. Picard couldn't explain why he was leaving
but he was sure the details and reasons were not important to Miryam.
He wanted to give her a chance to express feelings that he knew were
locked up inside. They sat on a couch and, nestling her head against
his chest, she revealed all her hopes and dreams; things she had never
shared before.
"Do you know what I would like? I would like to go live far away in
some barbarian land, like Britain or Germany. Someplace where there
is still a little unspoiled freedom left." She sighed, "but I will
have to stay here until I can save enough money to get away, and that
will take a long, long time."
"Maybe not so long," he said holding her tight, "maybe I can help you.
Do you have a gold coin?"
Intrigued by the hope he offered, her expression suddenly brightened
as she ran to get him an Aureus from her box. He took the coin
and told her to wait for him in the main room. Alone in the room he
signaled Data with the comm badge to meet him.
"Data, I want you to return to the Enterprise. Use the replicators to
make six hundred copies of this gold coin. I also want four dozen each
of diamonds, rubies, and emeralds. Set aside one hundred coins in a
fabric bag and pack the remainder in two inconspicuous wooden boxes.
Meet me back in this room in one hour."
**********
The time had come for Picard to say goodbye to Miryam. He was not
looking forward to this, both because he would miss her terribly and
he did not want to her. But there was no alternative; to take
her with him was impossible.
She was in the small room where they had seen each other for the first
time. Picard told Data to put the boxes in the room and wait by the
doorway. Miryam would not face him. She spoke to him with her back
turned, "Turn off your tricorder. I don't want to understand what you
are going to say."
He gently turned her around. Huge tears were falling from her dark
eyes, staining her cheeks.
"Miryam, I am continually amazed by you. How do you know this is
called a tricorder?" She grabbed it angrily as he held it up in front
of her.
"Just because I am a whore doesn't mean I can't read! It says right
here on the bottom: T-R-I-C-O-R-D-E-R, a word no doubt invented by
someone in your country who speaks very bad Latin!"
"And when," he asked teasing, "did you get the chance to examine the
tricorder for inscriptions?"
"Oh," she replied returning the tease while placing the tricorder on
the floor, "probably one of the times that I was undressing you." She
could never stay angry at him and fought back the tears with a forced
smile. Running her hand along his body, she stopped to squeeze his
bulge. He closed his eyes for a second and did nothing to stop her
fondling.
"Fuck me, Picard. Fuck me one more time right here." She hoped the
vulgarity of her language would convey to him the arousal she felt.
As always, he was totally overcome by lust for her. He pressed her
breasts and then moved his hand under her and between her legs
to feel the wetness. Picard knew Data was still watching, but his
desire for Miryam were too strong at that moment to resist. He shoved
her against the wall as she wrapped her legs around his waist to
anchor herself. Freeing his hard penis, he pushed into her, each
thrust moving Miryam up and down along the masonry, accompanied by
moans of pleasure.
Data watched silently from the doorway as his Captain, the he
considered to be the epitome of human decency and honor, had crude
noisy sex against a wall. The grunting and moaning intensified until
reaching orgasmic intensity. As Picard removed Miryam from himself,
Data's positronic brain incorporated into his programming a new
understanding of human behavior.
"Data," Picard said without turning to face him, " please leave us
alone for a few minutes."
"I'll be waiting at the appropriate place, Captain," he said and left
quickly.
"Miryam, inside those two boxes is your freedom. Don't open them
until I'm gone and don't let anyone else know. Data has already given
something to your friends, to Otho, and even to Matrilla; everything
else is from me to you alone. I know I'm being vague, but promise me
you'll be careful with what I'm leaving you."
She answered him with a mock insulted look, "I'm always careful; and
I'm smart. You should know that by now."
"I do know that, and you must believe me, you have a good life ahead
of you."
The farewell was becoming unbearable for both of them. The quicker it
was over, the better. He gave her a kiss and walked out the door.
"Vale, Picard. In perpetuum mei memoria tene."
--- The End ---
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